


Don't Ever Leave Me

by Angelic_Castiel74



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Fake Kidnapping, Gay, Kidnapping, Lima Syndrome, M/M, Stockholm Syndrome, relationship, soft, valeyne - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 12:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17642396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelic_Castiel74/pseuds/Angelic_Castiel74
Summary: Starts when Jerome kidnapped Bruce in season 2.Bruce thought life was so boring until Jerome came into it. Jerome made it fun and thrilling.Ps. Jerome is 16 since some people will throw a fit :)





	1. Chapter 1

The knife against his throat was cold and wasn't being pressed hard enough to draw blood, but with just a bit more pressure, it could easily cut into his skin. To anyone else, it would be threatening. Bruce, however, was holding back a smile. Excitement flowed through him as the show went on. Jerome could easily kill him, but Bruce knew he wouldn't.

“Are you enjoying this, Brucie Boy?” Jerome asked him, his voice barely above a whisper, and his warm lips tickling his ear. 

Bruce opened his mouth only a few centimeters, as to not make it obvious he was about to speak.

“Yes,” he breathed. 

Jerome gave a slight chuckle and dug the knife deeper into his neck, drawing a little blood and causing Bruce to hiss. Jerome, hearing the hiss, pulled the knife back just so it lightly touched his skin. 

“Jerome,” a deep and calm voice said. Bruce’s eyes landed on the mayor quickly make his way to the stage. When Bruce saw a knife in the mayor’s hand, he couldn’t stop himself from calling out.

“No!” Bruce yelled. His yell made Galavan stop in his tracks, only two steps away from being on the stage. Galavan raised an eyebrow at Bruce and he had to think of what to say next. 

“Don't-don't hurt him. Please- ju-just arrest him. No one deserves death,” Bruce spoke quickly, stumbling over his words. He heard Jerome laugh behind him, a laugh that bounced through the anxious and silent room.

“Bruce, he just tried, and still could, to kill you,” Galavan said. Bruce glared at him.

“I don’t care. Promise me. Promise me you won’t hurt him. That you’ll only arrest him,” Bruce said. The knife was removed from his neck and Jerome leaned into him, his head resting in Bruce’s hair. Bruce tried to pull away, but Jerome only held him tighter.

“Bruce-” Galavan tried to say but was cut off.

“Promise me!” Bruce yelled. Galavan stared at him before sighing and dropping the knife.

“I promise.”


	2. Chapter 2

Jerome, as promised, was arrested. He didn’t stay locked up for long, however. Just two weeks after he was carted off to Arkham, he escaped its confinement. A short time after he escaped, he decided to hold Bruce hostage. In Bruce’s own home. They were in a small and secret room that Bruce was able to access through his bedroom.

“You’re lucky Alfred isn’t here.” It wasn’t a threat. It was a fact.

“I suppose so,” Jerome said as he set up the camera. “But I could’ve easily killed him if he was.”

“I wouldn’t have let you.” Bruce’s voice turned cold. Jerome stopped fumbling with the camera and turned towards Bruce.

“Ease up, Bruce. If you don’t want me to kill him, I won’t.”

Bruce gave a relieved sigh and sat on the chair that was meant for him. Jerome went over to Bruce and tied some ropes around his wrists to the arms of the chair.

“Too tight?” Jerome asked when he saw Bruce wince.

“Just a bit,” Bruce said. Jerome gave him a small apologetic smile and loosened the ropes.

Bruce stared at Jerome as he did all of this. When Jerome told him he was going to kidnap him, it sounded like more of a question than a fact. Bruce, having no idea why he did it, said yes to the idea. He then proceeded to show Jerome the room that they were in now. Maybe Bruce just liked the thrill of it all. Maybe.

Jerome looked up and smirked.

“Like what ya see?” Jerome jokingly asked. Bruce blinked.

“It’s just… you don’t look very threatening with all of the freckles,” Bruce lied. Bruce had never been a good liar and could tell Jerome knew he was lying, but Jerome didn’t say anything about it.

Jerome reached his hand up to ruffle Bruce’s hair, humming as he did so. Bruce made eye contact with him and Jerome’s hand stopped. They were only an inch apart and Bruce could smell Jerome’s minty breath. Once Jerome realized what was happening, he pulled away and muttered, “Messed up hair. Had to be believable.”

He turned his back on a very confused Bruce and went back to turn on the camera. Jerome counted down from three with his fingers and pressed a button. Bruce quickly put on a look of fear. All of Gotham was watching this, after all.

Jerome walked out from behind the camera, his footsteps echoing loudly in the room, and leaned in front of it. He smiled, a smile Bruce loved more than a person should. The smile turned into a laugh. A cold and high laugh that Bruce knew wasn’t genuine because Jerome’s real laugh was warm and neither deep nor high. Just right.

“Hey there, Gotham! Didn’t expect me back so soon, did ya? Look, I have Bruce Wayne right behind me. A hostage, as you would call it. He put up a pretty good fight, but don’t worry, I would never be able to hurt his pretty face,” Jerome said. Bruce had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing.

Jerome walked around Bruce, leaned down, and wrapped his arms around Bruce’s shoulders. Jerome put his head in Bruce’s messed up hair and Bruce felt Jerome smile. Jerome then lifted his head to speak.

“He’s a cute one, think I might keep him,” Jerome said before chuckling. He unwrapped his arms from Bruce’s shoulders and knelt down beside him.

“Let's be serious for a moment, shall we? I don’t want money or anything of the sort. I don’t want to rule the underground. No. No, what _I_ want is publicity. I want people to whisper my name in fear. I want them to be too scared to even go outside after dark. I want them to freeze up when they see the someone with same striking red hair as mine.” He got up and walked closer to the camera.

Bruce watched him with amazement. This is exactly the kind of thrill he wanted in this boring and miserable city.

“I want children to run to their mommies and daddies whenever they hear a laugh that didn’t belong to someone they knew. I want them to cling to their parents in fear whenever they’re in public.” Jerome smiled. "Now, that all for tonight. I just wanted to get my point across. I hope Brucie Boy is still alive by morning!” He went back behind the camera to switch it off and back over to Bruce to untie the ropes.

“Thanks,” Bruce said once the ropes were untied.

“I’ve gotta go. See you soon, kid,” Jerome said before smiling and ruffling Bruce’s hair once more.

Bruce walked Jerome out of the manor and watched as Jerome disappeared behind some trees. It was nights like these that he would look forward to.


	3. Chapter 3

The next time Jerome “kidnapped” Bruce was three months after their last encounter. When Bruce walked into his room one night, ready to sleep, he almost had a heart attack when he saw a bored looking Jerome sitting on his bed reading a book.

“Y’know, this book is quite hard to read because it’s just so _boring._ Like, I’m only 32 pages in and wondering when this Ishmael dude meets the whale, ‘cause so far, he met this “harpoon” or something and talked about his life as a sailor. How can you read this? I almost fell asleep waiting for you.” Jerome looked up at Bruce. “Usually, I love books, but this is awful and-”

“It’s _art,_ ” Bruce cut him off. “A classic. What are you doing here, anyway?”

Jerome threw the book on the bed, stood up, and walked towards Bruce with his eyes shining. He gave a wide smile and dramatically put his hands on Bruce’s arms.

“How would you like to have a little fun, tonight?” Jerome asked. Bruce slighting cocked his head to the side and squinted at him.

“What do you mean?” Bruce asked.

“I “hold you hostage” again!” Jerome exclaimed.

“Is this a regular thing, now?” Bruce asked.

“Oh c’mon, Brucie! I know you _loved_ it last time. I could see it in your eyes. I know you were holding back a smile,” Jerome said as he circled Bruce.

“I’m tired,” Bruce said. Jerome stopped in front of Bruce.

“Not if you do this! Please?” Jerome gave him puppy dog eyes and Bruce found himself unable to resist them.

“Fine,” Bruce grumbled. Jerome beamed and ruffled Bruce’s hair. “What is up with you and my hair?”

“It’s so… professional. You should try a day without hair gel,” Jerome said. “I try to make it messy so you don’t look like a snobby rich kid.”

“I don’t look snobby. And a day without hair gel would be awful,” Bruce said.

“Why?”

“So. Many. Curls.”

“Huh. I like curls. Next time I visit you, no hair gel,” Jerome said. Bruce furrowed his eyebrows at him. “Now! Off with holding you hostage!”

 

~

“This here is a fake knife. See?” Jerome “stabbed” himself with it and Bruce watched as the blade retracted into the handle. “This is fake blood. I’m going to put some on the knife an pretend to cut you.”

Bruce stared at Jerome like as if Jerome was stupid.

“You do realize that when Alfred asks to see the cuts… There won’t be any!” Bruce raised his voice and threw his arms up in dramatic effect. Jerome pouted and look at the knife. Bruce let his arms fall to his sides.

“That’s unfortunate.” He sighed. “I had hoped that it wouldn’t have had to come to this. Guess I’ll just have to use a real knife.”

“No!” Bruce exclaimed. “No real knives! Can’t you think of something else?” Bruce said. Jerome scrunched up his nose as he thought, and Bruce found that oddly cute. He mentally kicked himself for thinking that.

“I guess. But it’s less exciting. Shall we get started?” Jerome said and Bruce nodded.

Jerome adjusted the camera as Bruce looked around at the abandoned apartment building. Jerome had chosen a room that was in pretty good shape for not having been in use for five years.

“Fake knife!” Jerome assured Bruce it was fake by “stabbing” himself again. “I won’t pretend to cut you, but I will graze your skin with it. Also, I’m sorry for future pain that I will cause. I’m going to fake punch you, but I will need you to speak before I do. Got it?” Jerome said. Bruce gaped at him. “Bruce?”

“Y-Yeah. Yeah, I got it,” Bruce said.

“Great! Let me just put the camera on a timer and we’re all set to go. This is live, as well, so don’t mess up,” Jerome said.

Jerome went over to the camera, clicked a button, and hurried over to Bruce. He grabbed Bruce roughly by the hair and leaned his head back just enough so people could see the knife under Bruce’s chin. Bruce hissed when Jerome did that. When there was a beep, Jerome started talking.

“Hello, Gotham! Last time I did this, I don’t think people took me seriously. So, here I am, yet again with Bruce Wayne.” True to his word, Jerome grazed the knife across his skin. “There are many things I could do with this knife. Like maybe stab him, or slit his pretty throat…” Bruce took this as his cue to speak.

“Jerome-” Bruce started but was cut off by Jerome pretending to punch him. Bruce leaned out of his grasp and held his cheek and groaned, acting as if Jerome had actually punched him. Bruce looked at Jerome with fearful eyes.

“Silence, Wayne!” Jerome yelled.

“Jerome, please-”

Jerome forced Bruce to his knees and Bruce let out a small gasp. That had actually hurt. He knew there would be bruises on them in the morning.

“I told you to be quiet. Tsk tsk, Wayne. You just _cannot_ listen, can you?” Jerome said in a menacing voice. Although Bruce would never admit it aloud, he felt a bit of fear at Jerome’s tone. Jerome turned back to the camera.

“Either you start respecting and taking me to heart right now, or people die. Your choice.” Jerome said and turned off the camera.

When he was finished turning it off, Jerome rushed back to Bruce to help him up. Bruce let out a pained gasp and his knees wobbled slightly as he hung onto Jerome. Jerome bit his lip as he watched Bruce struggle.

“Are you okay? I didn't hurt you too bad, did I?” Jerome said in a rushed and worried voice.

“Yeah, I’m-I’m fine. Don’t worry,” Bruce assured him quietly.

“Your knees…” Jerome trailed off, his eyes transfixed on Bruce’s covered knees.

Bruce’s hand reached up to touch Jerome’s face. Jerome’s eyes traveled up to Bruce’s. Bruce rubbed his thumb over Jerome’s cheek, just under his eye. Jerome sighed and closed his eyes.

“Jerome, I’m fine. It’s just a few bruises,” Bruce reassured him soothingly with his thumb to rubbing Jerome’s cheek.

“‘M sorry, Bruce. I should leave now in case the police show up.” Jerome gave a soft smile and put his hand over Bruce’s before walking away.

Bruce sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and pulled out his phone to tell Alfred where he was. He also noted Jerome left his camera.


	4. Chapter 4

The next time Jerome came to visit Bruce again, it had been 42 days. Bruce counted. Bruce had been peacefully sleeping until he was awoken by a crash and a whispered, “fuck!”. Bruce jumped out of bed and instinctively grabbed a pocket knife on his dresser.

“Who are you?” Bruce demanded, his vision still blurred from being just woken up.

“Relax, Brucie. It’s me, Jerome,” Jerome said as he walked over to Bruce. Bruce relaxed and put the knife back on his dresser.

“You can't just- that’s trespassing. That’s _illegal_ ,” Bruce said. Jerome rolled his eyes and turned on a lamp.

“I’ve killed at least 20 people. Trespassing is one of my lower crimes. Besides, you didn’t complain last time,” Jerome said. It was Bruce’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Why are you here?” Bruce asked.

“I just wanna talk,” Jerome said and took a seat on Bruce’s bed.

“‘Bout what?” Bruce asked as he rubbed his eyes and joined Jerome, sitting next to him.

“Anything, honestly. Don’t tell anyone, but,” Jerome leaned his head on Bruce’s shoulder. “I kinda want a friend.” Bruce chuckled and leaned his head on Jerome’s.

It was silent for a minute. Bruce was lost in his thoughts. Jerome had killed _at least_ 20 people, and yet, here he was, leaning his head on Bruce’s shoulder like it was the most normal thing in the world. Bruce gently grabbed one of Jerome’s hands and fumbled with his fingers.

“Do you know their names?” Bruce softly asked.

“Hm?” came Jerome's sleepy reply.

“The people you killed. Do you know their names?” Bruce said.

“Oh; uh-yeah. Yeah, I have a list.” Jerome pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Bruce. Bruce looked at it and began to read.

Lila Valeska

Paul Cicero

Thomas Chambers

Sophia Matt

Harry Larson

Elena Burrows

Sarah Brown

Amy Tai

Steve Lynds

Edward Marsh

Lily Child

Norman Mae

Raine Stiles

Daniel Toban

Hayley May

Thomas Pane

James Henry

Isabelle Potter

Ryan Forr

Addison Prince

Jared Low

Kassidi Maine

22 people. 22 people suffered at the hands of Jerome Valeska. He should’ve felt something as he read the list. Anything. But he didn’t. All he could do was relax and listen to Jerome’s breathing. What happened? Bruce would’ve felt uneasy before, but now he didn’t even care.

Bruce handed Jerome the paper and Jerome put it in his pocket. He snuggled his head into the crook of Bruce’s neck and Bruce was able to feel Jerome’s eyelashes brush across his skin. Bruce let Jerome stay like that for a few minutes before speaking up.

“If you’re so tired,” Bruce started. “why’d you want to talk?”

Jerome chuckled and removed his head from Bruce’s shoulder to look at him. He places his hand on Bruce’s cheek.

“That was just an excuse. I _don’t_ want to talk,” he murmured before leaning in. Their eyes fluttered shut.

When their lips connected, there was no electricity or fireworks. Just happiness and peace. It was pure bliss. Bruce’s left hand went up to comb through Jerome’s hair while his right arm wrapped around his neck. Jerome’s right arm wrapped around Bruce’s waist to pull him closer, while his left hand stayed on Bruce’s cheek.

A part of Bruce was telling him that this was wrong. That he wasn’t supposed to be kissing a killer. Another part of him was telling him to “shut up, idiot, and just enjoy the goddamn kiss.”

When they broke apart, it felt like too soon, but, unfortunately, air was a necessity. Their eyes slowly opened as they stared at each other.

“I have your camera,” Bruce blurted out in a whisper. They both refused to pull away from each other.

“What?” Jerome muttered.

“Your camera. You left it the last time you “held me hostage”.,” Bruce said and smiled. “It’s on my desk.”

“Thanks. I’ll make sure to grab it on my out.” He chuckled before turning serious. “Bruce, You’re-you’re not going to see me for a long time.” Bruce gave him a confused look. “I have to make Gotham understand that I’m not just some serial killer wannabe.”

“You’re insane,” Bruce said as he moved into a more comfortable position. Which was just putting his head on Jerome’s lap so Jerome could play with Bruce’s hair.

“Guess that’s why I was put in Arkham,” Jerome said with a grin and Bruce giggled. Bruce turned serious again.

“How long?” Bruce quietly asked.

“I don’t know,” Jerome replied with a sigh. “Too long.”

Bruce pursed his lips.

“Will you visit?” The question was hardly loud enough o be a whisper. Jerome’s hands stopped playing with his hair and Bruce could feel tears threaten to fall. “At least once?”

“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe.”

Bruce knew he was lying. He sighed and burrowed his head into Jerome’s lap, more. He was going to miss moments like this. Peaceful moments when they didn’t really do anything. Moments when they just were there, talking.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, Wayne,” Jerome murmured after a while.

“But you’re just so comfortable,” Bruce said, half asleep.

“Fine, but just this once,” Jerome said and Bruce drifted off to sleep.

 

~

When Bruce awoke, he was alone. A pillow that was placed under his head and blanket on him made him smile. When he looked over at the table next to his bed, he noticed a note. He sighed and got up to read it.

Dear Bruce,

This is really weird for me, like, next level weird, but I just wanted to say that I _will_ see you again. I promise. It’ll probably be unexpected, but then again, when are my visits not? I don’t know when I will see you, but I’m hoping soon. And thank you for the best birthday ever.

-Jerome Valeska

Bruce smiled and put the note in his drawer. Wait a minute… Bruce’s eyebrow furrowed. It was Jerome’s birthday and Bruce didn’t even know! He didn’t see Jerome for another eight months.


	5. Chapter 5

The phone was ringing. The phone was ringing and Alfred was telling him to be quiet when it abruptly stopped. Bruce was confused but complied. After a moment or two, there was a laugh.

“Your security seriously sucks, Bruce,” said a familiar voice. Bruce had to hold back a smile.

“I’ll be sure to update it, then,” Bruce said, making sure to glare at Jerome. He had to make it look convincing, after all.

“Hm.” Jerome looked at Alfred then back to Bruce. “I was hoping I would catch you alone.” They stared at each other for a moment before Jerome started talking again. “Mind if I talk to you in the hallway, Brucie?”

Bruce started to walk over to Jerome, but Alfred caught his arm. Bruce stopped to look at Alfred.

“Bruce-” Alfred started but Bruce cut him off.

“I’ll be fine,” Bruce assured him. Alfred sighed and let him go.

When they entered the hallway, Bruce felt tears run down his face. Jerome was quick to wipe them away, tsking.

“No crying, Bruce,” Jerome whispered.

Bruce lightly laughed and grabbed Jerome’s hand to keep it on his face. Jerome pushed a strand of hair out of Bruce’s eyes kissed his forehead.

“Lower,” Bruce murmured. He could feel Jerome smile against his forehead.

This time, Jerome pressed his lips onto Bruce’s. Their eyes closed and they couldn’t think of anything. This was  _ their _ moment.

“Geez, I’ve missed you,” Jerome said. Bruce smiled at him.

“Really?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah.”

Bruce took a deep breath and hugged Jerome. Bruce felt Jerome’s arms wrap around him, holding him tight. They were like that for a minute before letting go.

“Don’t ever leave me again,” Bruce said, glaring teasingly.

Jerome smiled and said, “I won’t, I promise.”


End file.
